


Southern Comfort

by CobaltStargazer



Category: Law & Order, Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/F, Making Out, Rooftops, mentions of past rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 13:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7846915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CobaltStargazer/pseuds/CobaltStargazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Abbie proves to be a challenge instead of a conquest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Southern Comfort

Amanda lived in a fourth-floor apartment in Hell's Kitchen, and on clear evenings in the summer she liked to go up to the roof and drink beer while looking at the view. The door leading outside was supposed to stay locked, but she handed the super a twenty now and then to leave it open. After five years in New York, she'd decided that heights were safer than the parks if you wanted a view.

Abbie trailing along behind her as they finished the climb up the stairwell. It was their fourth date, and she'd brought two lawn chairs up from her place the night before. The lawyer had yet to see her actual apartment, but Amanda hoped to invite her in for a last drink before she headed home. What had started out as a distraction was turning into something almost like a crush. The blonde was trying to ignore the warning signs, not wanting to get too serious.

"Wow," the brunette said as the door snicked shut behind them. Manhattan's buildings were closer together than the ones in Amanda's neighborhood, offering fewer opportunities for a view. The Hudson wasn't visible, but they'd tentatively planned a trip to Jones Beach before the weather cooled off. Summers in the Big Apple could be just as muggy as the ones in Texas, but work usually had both of them too busy for leisure.

"I _love_ it. I'm on the eighth floor, but with space at such a premium all you can really see is the traffic below. Or passin' planes."

And that was one of the things that was pulling Amanda in, the accent. Abbie drawled more than she twanged, and her words didn't lose the G at the end very often, but it was both familiar and _un_ familiar to hear it so often again. The sun was just about to set, the deep blue sky turning purple at the edges. The prosecutor took up space at the railing, looking down at the neighborhood before checking out the skyline. Her hair was in a loose ponytail, pieces of it fluttering in the breeze of the early night. Amanda resisted the urge to tuck some of it behind her ear.

"Do you bring all of your girls up here, Detective Rollins?"

Abbie's voice was contemplative, but underneath the introspection she wondered if this was significant. Beneath the semi-drunken charm of their first meeting, that willingness to flirt, Amanda had a gallant streak, and she had yet to do more than kiss her goodnight. Sometimes with tongue, sure, but the brunette had expected a more overt play to get her into bed. Which she might not have been averse to. Her smile was a little arch when she turned to face the detective, leaning one forearm against the guardrail. 

"I don't have any girls right now." A pause while the blonde gauged the situation. Four dates. Two dinners and a movie, one impromptu lunch, and a football game where the Giants beat the Packers. Abbie had gotten the tickets from a grateful family whose case she had prosecuted and won. The moment held while the cop hooked the thumb through a slightly frayed belt loop. The red flags were waving, and she was ignoring them.

"Except you. If you want."

Abbie's smile widened, and the dimples only added to her appeal. She took a half-step closer, and Amanda made herself hold still. Hold still and wait. Whatever she'd intended for this to be, the situation was changing or had already changed. And maybe trying to pull Abbie into her dysfunctional crap wouldn't do the lawyer any favors in the long run. Still. Those _dimples_.

If she told her now, would it matter? Amanda had told her about some of her past; the gambling and the trouble-making sister, but Abbie suspected that there was more. This line of work drew in troubled souls, especially if the trouble wasn't of someone's own making. The brunette inched closer, and their noses bumped, a playful brush with a hint of seriousness. She took the detective's left hand with her right one, felt a thumb graze her knuckles.

"Only if I want?"

"Of course. It's always a woman's choice."

The opening was so obvious that Abbie might have snorted in derision at any other time. The relationship with Amanda was still very new, but she didn't think being honest now would ruin anything. Besides, hesitancy was never her resting state, not personally and not professionally. 

"Not always. Sometimes you can't make a choice because you don't get offered one."

Amanda frowned, her fair eyebrows drawing together as she did a mental backtrack through the past ten minutes or so. She'd seen Abbie in court by now, had watched from the gallery as she conducted her questioning and offered summations. She was still holding the brunette's hand, her thumb resting on the first knuckle, and it took her a minute to really take in the lawyer's stoic expression. She interlocked their fingers, aligned their palms. Abbie just looked at her, but there was the slightest relaxation of her posture.

"I'm sorry." The blonde said it in a matter of fact way, because outside of anything else, she admired the other woman, who obviously didn't want to be treated like a victim.

"It was a long time ago." The sun was setting now, and in the lengthening shadows Amanda lifted the hand she was holding to her lips and kissed it. The brunette's mouth quirked, and she leaned in and kissed the cop lightly on the mouth. No tongue, but Amanda felt a shiver run down her back at the implicit trust she'd been offered. 

She was in so much trouble. But that didn't have to be bad.

"We can go downstairs and watch TV when its dark if you want," she said, and she'd shelved any plans for a makeout session that night. She didn't push unless she was invited, and while she really liked Abbie, now was not the time to ask for an invitation. But the night wasn't over yet, and neither was the summer. "I want you to see my place. It's probably not as classy as yours, but..."

The blonde shrugged, and the lawyer slipped an arm around her waist. The light was turning purple and soft now, streaks of orange touching the clouds. Amanda was compact and solid against her side. She felt both comforted and excited by the proximity, and even if she went home tonight, she was beginning to feel like there was really something here.

So maybe Amanda wasn't the only one who was in trouble.


End file.
